


дневник

by maq_moon



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Family Drama, Gen, Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge, Unconventional Format, because Abrasax, but also not happy, not unhappy, pandemic illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maq_moon/pseuds/maq_moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>дневник: journal, diary<br/>The diary entries of Jupiter Jones on milestone birthdays throughout her life... and longer.<br/>{{Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge #4- Birthday!}}</p>
            </blockquote>





	дневник

**Author's Note:**

> Important Cultural Notes from Your Russophile Author (or Things You Need to Know):
> 
> "дневник" is pronounced "dnyevnik"  
> Vladimir Vassilovitch Bolotnikov- This would be Vladie's full name because he is Vassily's son.  
> Karaveye- round bread. The game associated with it has children standing in a circle singing about rising dough, with the birthday boy/girl in the middle of the circle. Be happy I didn't include the Krokodil song.  
> All of the alcohol stuff- this is not me being ignorant. These are actual Russian traditions.

**дневник**

_sixteen_

            I should be getting my temps today, like a normal sixteen year old. I should be going to driving school and learning to parallel park. But to do those things you need a birth certificate or a social security card or some other piece of paper proving you already exist, and I don't have that. It would be easy, too, for me to be a citizen and get a driver's license. Cousin Vassily has his Green Card. He said all you have to do is take a test. I've lived in the US my whole life (minus a month or two on a boat, but I don't really count that), I speak English, I do well in school. I think you have to know the Pledge of Allegiance too, but they teach you that when you're five. I could pass a test.

            But Cousin won't let me take it. Mama wants me to be a citizen, but Cousin is the head of the family and his word is final. I hate living under "his roof, his rules". It's stupid. Maybe he doesn't want me to be a citizen so he can keep working me like an animal for hardly any money.

            Do you know what I got for my birthday? Fifty dollars. When Vladie turned sixteen, he got three times as much and actual presents besides. But he's a boy, and Vladimir _Vassilovitch_ Bolotnikov. After I got the money, I had to go to work. Three houses.

            Mama at least made sure that they cooked food I liked. No turnip salad for Jupiter, thanks! We did a toast and had the karaveye (I'm way too old for the game, but Mikka wanted to play, so I went along). I got a strawberry pie out of it, so it wasn't all bad.

            Next year I'll be able to see R-Rated movies. Oh wait, you have to show ID to buy tickets, and all I have is a bus pass.

_eighteen_

            I HATE my life! Eighteen is supposed to be an awesome birthday, but it sucks. There's an election this year, and I can't vote because Vassily still won't let me take my citizenship test. He told me that he's not against my becoming a citizen, but it should happen by me getting married to a (preferably Russian-born) citizen. I can't keep a boyfriend for more than four months. How does he expect me to get married? And why does he even care?

            I wanted to go to college so badly. I cried and screamed (mostly screamed), but he wouldn't let me take the stupid test even so I could go to college. Mama begged him on that. She loved university, attending and teaching. I was going to major in Secondary Education, maybe minor in English or History. In the end, as always, Czar Vassily won because he controls the household finances.

            I actually got a couple nice things. Vladie hooked me up with a fake ID. It looks legitimate. Mama passed on a necklace to me that my father had given her on their wedding day. That meant a lot, especially since I know so little about him. Sometimes I just want to shake her until she tells me everything, but she clams up and leaves the room every time I try to ask about him. Aunt Nino tries to fill in the blank spots, but there's only so much that she knows.

            I wonder if my dad's parents are still alive. Do they know about me?

_twenty-one_

            Katherine is the best friend a girl could ask for. Know what she did? For my birthday, she gave me a new stereo for my clunker. I kind of cried on her, which was awkward, but we laughed about it. I know it must have cost a fortune, but she said she got it second-hand, probably just to save my pride. I mean, I gave her twenty-five bucks in gift certificates for her birthday. I clean her house. She knows I don't have a lot. That is one damn fine stereo, though.

            Now I'm worried that someone will break into my car and steal it. My car is a hunk of junk whose parts aren't worth their weight in scrap, but add something nice like that...

            Oh, and my family has decided that because Katherine's gift was so nice, they didn't need to bother getting me anything. Mikka bought me ice cream and Cousin almost had an aneurism. His face got all red and he told her that she should save her money and not waste it on someone who already has nice things.

            I have this recurring dream of punching Vassily in the face over and over while he asks me for exactly twelve rubles to buy a haircut. I yell at him that not everyone has hair and he should be grateful, and if he wants twelve rubles he can damn well go earn them himself. I always wake up smiling.

            This year I'm supposed to be a Real Adult, all the bells, whistles, and alcohol. The only part of that that's correct is the alcohol, and I've been downing it for years. I'm _Russian_. A knock on the door? Bust out the vodka! You have to leave? Well, you can't leave unless your glass is empty! My family has so many superstitions about alcohol. Oh, yeah, there's also the tradition that says that the birthday girl has to buy drinks for everyone. And if they decide they want to get food to go along with their booze, that's on me, too. I hate this old-world nonsense.

            I might take a pillow out to my car and sleep next to my stereo. If they can't find me, they can't make me buy their liquor.

_twenty-six_

            So this is my first birthday as a queen. I still feel weird thinking about that.

            Since they got me the telescope after the "space affair", I told my family not to get me anything. Still, when I woke up, there were boxes at the foot of my bed. I suspect Caine will have something for me as well. He's not very good at keeping secrets. Looking at them more closely, the gift boxes seem awfully extravagant. That's good wrapping paper, and I can't even see the tape. I wonder if someone sprung for professional wrapping? What would even be the point of that?

_twenty-seven_

            Nope. Nope. Nope.

            That's one 'nope' for each Abrasax who sent me a birthday present. Last year the gifts had confused me. No tags, fancy paper. How did they get in my house? Apparently there's a Space equivalent of FedEx. Anyway, I opened them and thanked my family, who was confused, which made me confused, then I asked Caine and he told me about Space FedEx and he got in touch with someone there and three Abrasax adults with _serious_ Mommy issues sent me gifts. Two issues to address there. One: THREE Abrasax kids. I thought... Well, never mind. Two: how the hell are they getting stuff onto MY planet? So I told Space FedEx (or, rather, I told Caine to tell them because I don't know how to contact people in space. I should probably learn) to not deliver stuff from the boys to Earth. Kalique seemed nice. She ended up being the one who saved my planet from being harvested- got the ball rolling, anyway- so for now she's on the 'nice' list.

            But here I am, one year later, with presents from Kalique, Creepy Titus, and ...the other one. Maybe there's also a Space UPS. More likely one of them paid an enormous amount to Space FedEx to break my decree. I'm not exactly a commanding presence, and what am I going to do to a delivery company? They can say it was a mistake. It doesn't matter. I'll open Kalique's and throw the other two into a fire or something.

            Shit, there aren't any tags. It'll be little notes inside the boxes again. Okay, I'll grab the notes, then throw away the appropriate packages.

            Seriously, Kalique? A ball gown? Oh, whoops- that was from my son/fiancé/attempted murderer. It _is_ pretty... e-bay. I could use some money, and this will fetch a price.

            Woah now, THAT'S what I'm talking about, Kalique! A bracelet and earrings, understated, black. I wonder what type of stone that is.

            Caine gave me some tulips for my birthday yesterday, which is bad luck, but I didn't tell him that. Tonight Mama is cooking up a strawberry pie. I doubt the family will give me anything besides food and vodka, but what do I need that I don't already have?

_forty_

            Aunt Nino died yesterday. Happy birthday to me, right? Vassily, Moltka, and Nino all in the last six months... Every day I worry that Mikka or her children will start to cough. Mama got a nosebleed last week and I'm afraid she's going to get it too.

            The World Health Organization has named it a pandemic. They don't know how it's transmitted and they don't have a cure. When they find one (if?), will people like us even get it? Or will it just go to leaders and diplomats? They'd probably give it to professional athletes before lower-class immigrants in the Russian part of Chicago.

            I find myself thinking of Cerise. Kalique came out of that horrible bath, but she told me that I could make my family's life better in the blink of an eye. I'm disgusted with myself for even considering using the Nectar. I could get some and put it in their food; they don't have to know how I'm keeping them alive. And as soon as the WHO finds a cure, I'll stop.

            Stinger used a cheap version of it. He bought it for Kiza. He did it because he wanted to save his daughter. He presumably still does it. I want to save my family. So it's okay, right? Just until they find a cure.

_fifty-two_

            You get a family on your birthday. Today I lost mine.

            They found out about the RegeneX. They had assumed that they had a natural immunity to the pandemic. They didn't understand why they never aged, though, and I couldn't explain it. And when I got the cough I had to put a little of it in my food, too, so I could keep giving it to them.

            I tried to say it's a "health potion" or a "life-extending serum". Mama said that it's an abomination against God. I didn't tell her what it's made of. I couldn't. I wouldn't dare. I told her over and over that it's what kept Mikka's children alive. I got a slap across the face for blaspheming; God kept them all alive.

            God. They think it was God, but it was me. Me and my almost-children. Does that make us Gods? The Abrasaxes probably think so. I'm no god. I'm just a woman who wanted to bring the ruins of her dying family back to the world of the living.

            We've been in hiding for so long. The government has been doing tests on those who show resistance to the pandemic. I imagine it's awful. It can't be worse than the dying, though. Bleeding from every orifice, coughing up green and black humors, swelling, necrotic limbs, and the gasping. That's probably the worst, the gasping for air. Maybe I only think so because I remember the feeling of _his_ hands around my throat and how I had to choke and struggle for the tiniest bit of oxygen.

            What do I do? I can't let them die like that. I can't let them be experimented on for staying healthy so long.

            Could I have done something to stop this? Is there some medicine out there that Seraphi Abrasax could have acquired to stop this whole thing before it got out of hand?

            I know what I have to do. I hate it, and my family will hate me even more, but... I can't watch them die.

_fifty-three_

            There is a huge pile of gifts at the foot of my bed. None of them will be from Mama or Mikka. They haven't taken to life on Cerise. They hate it here. She won't say so, but I think Mikka hates _me_. Mama, I think, is angry and disappointed. I don't know for sure because she barely acknowledges me. It's a large alcazar; she can avoid me.

            Mikka's girls like the gowns and jewelry. Mama and Mikka won't touch anything fancier than what they had back home. I try to make things nice for them, I really do.

            I'm going to move to one of my own planets soon, and take my relatives with me. I don't want to encroach on Kalique's hospitality for too long, and I get the feeling that she's not as genuine as I initially thought. She's pleasant and wants to know me, but I feel like she's that girl in high school who keeps your secrets until your back is turned.

            I have thirty-one alcazars to choose from. I pick one on a planet that has a very long night and a view of several nebulas. I think Mama will like that.

_One Hundred_

            Mother wants to throw a party, Russian-style. She wants to invite everyone I've ever met, cook traditional foods, the works. The servants and splices are against her making the banquet herself, but she insists and, well, nobody makes a strawberry pie like she does. She'll enlist Mikka's girls' help. They've been treating her like a surrogate mother since their own killed herself. They're throwing themselves into learning traditions and mathematics. I don't understand the math part, but I guess it's just an excuse to be close to her.

            I've told them that it's impossible to die of old age in space. Their wine tastes strange on occasion, and after drinking it they look a few years younger.

            Mikka... She used to side with me in my arguments with Cousin Vassily just because. She was so _good_. It's my fault she slit her throat.

            But I kept them all alive. I won't regret that, ever.

_Two Hundred One_

            Titus has invited me to his smallest home for an "intimate get-together". Right. No. I'm so done with get-togethers and parties, especially after the last one.

            I still can't believe Mother invited Titus and Balem. And Kalique gave me _lingerie_. What kind of daughter does that? I opened it in front of everyone, too. Balem's face was as red as mine. Titus laughed his ass off. Kalique sat there, prim and pretty as you please, as if she had given me something like a book.

            So no more parties. This year I'm going to Orous. I didn't get to spend my Sweet 16 at the DMV, might as well spend a birthday at the universe's equivalent. My alcazar here in the rings isn't particularly grand, though it's the largest in orbit.

            I'm giving myself a gift this year. I've neglected Earth since I left. I mean to change that. I'm going to go through the proper channels to make sure the population stays healthy.

            I wonder how many people were left after the pandemic ran its course.

            I wonder what Chicago looks like now. Is it a chrome utopia with flying cars?

            ...Is it full of rotting corpses and hungry survivors?

_five hundred twenty seven_

            They're trying to convince me to harvest one of my holdings. I won't do it. It's disgusting and inhumane. I don't care how miserable they say the people on the planet are, I won't kill them. I might be an Abrasax, but I'm perfectly content to run the accounting and make sure planets are seeded. I'll seed them. People have a right to live, after all. I'll seed them, but I won't harvest them. I don't care what the other Entitleds think of me. Let them call me weak. They can deal with the children.

_seven hundred twelve_

            Mother tells me that I've been screaming in my sleep. I don't doubt it.

            I don't deserve to sleep.

            I don't deserve to _live_.

            I don't even want to write down what I've done, but it's catalogued on Orous and the repercussions are already being felt on the market.

            They can't mock me anymore. I finally reaped what I sowed. I hate myself for it, but they were _dying_. They were dying and screaming, and there wasn't enough food, and no medicine could cure them...

            But I asked first. I went down there and I saw a man. He was old, missing an eye. I asked him if life was worth living. I was crying. He told me about the famine and the plague and the overpopulation despite it all. "What kind of god would allow this? A dead one! God is dead, else He would kill us all and end our suffering."

            I had permission. And they wanted it. So it was the right thing to do. Right?

            Mother wants me to confide in her, but I can't. Not about this. I sent an FTL to Kalique, whose advice was shitty. It was basically "pretend the bad parts didn't happen and you'll be fine!" How can I pretend I didn't slaughter billions of people? Is that how she stays so perky? By compartmentalizing and glossing over the murder? If so, she might be the most twisted of the three children.

            Not long after I spoke with Kalique, I got an FTL from Balem. He still unnerves me, even though he hasn't been hostile towards me since Caine accidentally destroyed his refinery. Strangely, his words were more calming. He reaffirmed what the old man said. He told me that I was their angel of mercy since God was dead to them. I freed them, he said, from hunger and sickness, and their sacrifice would keep others- like my mother- alive. I actually thanked him.

            I'm still a mess, but I'm trying to look at it like Balem and the old man said. I don't like it, I hate it, hate it _so much_ , but I think it might make sense.

_one thousand one hundred eighty four_

            Mikka's girls want a picture of their mother, but I have none to give them. Mother describes her as best she can (dark hair, about five and a half feet, eyes that sparkled), but I think she has forgotten as well. The vague nature of her description gives credence to my theory. I don't remember her face either, or Vladie's, or Moltka's. I dream of Cousin Vassily sometimes. He hits me relentlessly in my dreams, telling me to scrub the mildew from the bathtub if I want my money. I don't remember what Earth money looks like. There were faces on it, but I couldn't tell you whose they were.

            The girls don't remember life before I saved them. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. They like staying with "Cousin Kalique" and are presently enamored with dragonflies. Kalique is happy to have them. They confide in her, and she, in turn, confides in me. The eldest fancies a splice (Kalique is already working on remedying this), the middle one spends a lot of time in the candlelit shrine dedicated to my predecessor reading family histories, the youngest is asking far too many questions about RegeneX, those sort of things.

            Even though I won't let her throw me a party, Mother still likes to celebrate my birthday with a toast and my favorite pie. I'll not turn that down. I asked her about my father tonight. Her eyes got a far-away sort of look, and she told me things about him that I'd never heard. For all I know she made it up (does she remember _his_ face?), but I'll pretend it's the truth.

            I never thought I would turn out like this. I'm a monstrous goddess-queen who gives and takes life. Mother raised me better. But Mother doesn't know that I'm a monster, and what she doesn't know won't kill her. What she doesn't know is keeping her alive, with me, forever.

            I didn't ever think this would be my life. Part of me wonders if everything went to hell when Caine gave me that early birthday present. Bad luck. So much is wrong. So many people are dead. I have begun harvesting (always, always with permission). Things aren't how they're supposed to be. You're not supposed to have this many birthdays. Your life shouldn't be dependent upon the death of others. But that's my life, for good or ill.

            Disturbingly, I don't hate it.


End file.
